If Only
by Quatre-sama
Summary: While waiting in the Chapel of the Ordeal, Maura of Dunlath reflects on her association with Joren of Stone Mountain.


**If Only **

It was early morning – just after dawn – when Maura slipped into the Chapel of the Ordeal. She wasn't able to sleep the night before, worried as she was about him.

She didn't know what to expect. Many knights vaguely spoke of their Ordeals around her. Sir Douglass said it was the worst night of his life, if he excluded all the evenings he had to wait on Lord Raoul. But even when he joked, she could see the light fade from his eyes after his laughter ended, and the way he paused before going on to his next playful exchange.

She padded over to a bench where a knight in his early thirties kept vigil, staring at the gold sun disk behind the altar. He was Sir Paxton of Nond, she knew. And he likely had her same worry and trepidation. She sat next to him, slipping her small hand into his larger one. He smiled down at her momentarily, grateful for a companion, and then turned back to the altar.

****

_"I don't think you should be wasted clear out here," Joren said flirtatiously. "You should be in the capital, dazzling the court with your wit." _

_Maura raised one eyebrow, the perfect imitation of her knight-protector. "If I'm so witty, why do you think you can sway me by being charming? I know I'm not as smart or pretty as half the ladies in Corus. And I hardly think I'm wasted here, if I'm helping the people and creatures of Dunlath."_

_"Fine," he said, taking a bite out of an apple. "I can't win you over with charm."_

_"I don't know why you'd want to win me over at all."_

_"Because you're the owner of a lot of land?" He smiled lazily, his blue eyes shining._

_"Well, at least you're being honest." She stood, intent on going back inside._

_He grabbed her wrist suddenly. "Please don't go," he said, frowning. "If I don't spend my afternoons here with you, I'll have to listen to Paxton and Sir Douglass talk about the local fiefs' armies and speculate on whether the uprisings on the Scanran border will lead to war."_

_"Isn't that why you decided to train as a knight?" she asked dryly. She sat back down, carefully folding her skirts around her ankles._

_"Not really," he said, leaning against the tree trunk again. "I like fighting well enough. And I like the idea of fighting for Tortall. But I didn't choose to train – I'm the eldest son of Stone Mountain. It was expected of me."_

_She studied him carefully, noting how serious his eyes were. His lips, smiling and teasing before, were now turned down slightly._

_"Joren," she began seriously, taking his hand. "Were you flirting because your father wants some kind of control over Dunlath?"_

_He looked away, his silence confirming her suspicions._

_"So, do you want me to stay here in the orchard with you because you don't want to go in, or because you want to succeed in wooing me?"_

_He turned his face toward her again, his expression pained._

_"I see," she said, a lump in her throat. "As long as you tell your father that you tried, you consider it a success. But you won't try hard – Goddess forbid it actually work." She knew they were different sorts; he was beautiful and looked casual in finery, at home with himself. She, on the other hand, was plain and strange._

_"I wouldn't feel bad if I didn't like you," he said, his voice low. "It's just – I've known you since you were seven and visiting Stone Mountain."_

_"People change, Joren," she said, her voice sad. "Not you, but some people."_

_If only he would._

***

People began to trickle into the chapel, rubbing at their eyes and glancing apprehensively at the iron door. Buchard of Stone Mountain nodded to Sir Paxton, looking regal and imposing.

He pushed a smaller man out of the way, so he could be near the chamber door. People were speaking in hushed voices, but Maura could hear him bragging about what kinds of changes knights like Joren would make to the future of Tortall.

"Shouldn't count his chickens before they've hatched," murmured one woman behind Maura.

"Classic Stone Mountain arrogance," muttered another.

The chapel door opened and a pretty Yamani woman stepped in. People stepped aside to let her forward, but she remained close to the back wall, waiting silently.

***

_"I hate some of the things going on in this country," he sighed, closing a book and tossing it on the seat next to him. _

_"Like women holding property?" Maura asked, rolling her eyes. She wasn't exactly fond of his social ideas._

_"I was thinking more along the lines of our taxation system," Joren said languidly._

_"I don't always agree with it, but it's better than some of the systems in other nations," Maura acknowledged. "Perhaps when you've taken over your father's estates you can begin reforming such things."_

_He stood and stretched. "Would you be willing to take a walk with me, Lady Maura?" he asked, bowing dramatically._

_"I'm in the middle of a chapter," she pointed out. When he insisted, she sighed and placed a ribbon in her book. "Why must the hostess be unable to be rude in response to a rude guest? I think our entire system of etiquette and deportment lacks a degree of compassion."_

_Joren sighed. "I think chivalry and compassion are dead in this country. If you were to change your kind, womanly ways I would be devastated."_

_Maura snorted. "I can blow up your living quarters if you continue on like this."_

_"You wouldn't hurt your own home. Especially if it meant imposing even heavier taxes on your people to repair it."_

_"Nonsense," she said, happy to have a clear victory over him. "I'll simply raise the price of opals sold to Stone Mountain."_

_He smiled charmingly and – she was surprised to see – genuinely. "You make losing an argument much more pleasant than others do."_

_If only he were always like this._

***

A humming of noise overtook the crowd when the Mithran priests moved toward the iron door, preparing to reveal the new knight. Sir Paxton released Maura's hand after kissing it in thanks, then crossed toward the Chamber of the Ordeal.

Maura stood, fighting the bundle of nerves in her stomach. She didn't know what to expect, especially after the morning before, with Vinson of Genlith. Would he make confessions, or plead for some kind of absolution with Mithros? Would he be a knight?

But when the door was opened and no pale, frightened but capable man walked out, she understood. She dropped to the bench again, clutching the necklace she wore. Voices cried out in confusion, but Lord Buchard's roar was the loudest. She lifted her eyes to see him clutching at the pale but still beautiful corpse in the Mithran priest's arms.

***

_"I'm frightened," he whispered as they walked through the palace's snow-covered rose garden. No one else was around – thus his ability to be so honest. _

_"You should be." Even she could hear how cold her voice was, and felt guilty. He was admitting his weaknesses – perhaps now wasn't the time to chastise him for his past deeds._

_"I should," he agreed. He shivered despite his thick cloak, and pulled her closer to him._

_"Do you regret what you did?" Maura asked. She had once heard, from Sir Douglass, that the Chamber didn't feel mercy. But perhaps Mithros would, if Joren regretted his actions against Keladry's maid._

_"Sometimes," he acknowledged. "I hurt an innocent person in order to attack an enemy. It's not exactly chivalrous."_

_"And considering a young girl your enemy for the sole fact that she's a girl?"_

_"We're never going to agree on this, Maura." He dug his gloved hand into a pocket, pulling out a small package. "I have something for you. A token of our—friendship."_

_She looked up at him, genuinely surprised. "Gift-giving isn't like you, Joren."_

_"No," he said. "And falling in love with a girl like you isn't like me, either."_

_She felt her breath catch in her throat. They hadn't spoken of affection before – it was more a matter of spending time with a familiar person whenever they were in the vicinity. She didn't know if she loved him. Could she love a man who could be so callous, so cruel?_

_He laughed nervously. "That was supposed to be your cue to tell me how much you had fallen in love with me."_

_Maura studied him, amazed to see none of the arrogance she had known since they were children. He was as beautiful as ever, with his hair lit by the moonlight and his eyes bright with unasked questions. She had never liked him as a child – and sometimes had barely liked him as an adult. But there was something about him, a touch of insecurity that made her wonder if they were more alike than different._

_"Assuming—well, I'm sure everything will go well—would you consider, maybe, marrying me?" He pressed the package into her hands._

_"I-I have to think about it, Joren," she answered finally. At his urging she opened the package and found a sapphire – the treasure of Stone Mountain – hanging from a delicate silver chain._

_"Wear this when you think about it, Maura." He removed his gloves and fastened the elegant chain around her neck. He placed his warm hands on either side of her face, staring intensely at her. "I really do love you," he whispered before touching his lips to hers._

_"Will you be there – after my Ordeal?" he asked, nerves entering his voice again. "I think it will be easier, knowing you're waiting for me. But I'll make this happen—father will kill me if I don't. But I can make the Chamber respect me."_

_She nodded, if only to placate him. His ideas of the Chamber and hers – much like other things – were vastly different. "But let's talk of better things right now. Douglass and I are going to petition for the rights of ogres with the king next week," she said, walking through another section of the garden and dragging him with her._

_"Discussing things like these, we're never going to get anywhere," Joren scoffed._

_If only the Chamber of the Ordeal were as forgiving as she could be._


End file.
